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ay 

NARRATIVE 

OF 

JONATHAN RATHBUN, 

WITH 

ACCURATE ACCOUNTS 

OF THE 

CAPTURE OF GROTON FORT, 

THE 

MASSACRE THAT FOLLOWED, 

AND THE 

SACKING AND BURNING OF NEW LONDON, 

September 6, 1781, by the British Forces^ under 
the command of the 

TRAITOR BENEDICT ARNOLD. 



BY RUF.US AYiERY, 

AND 

STEPHEN HEMPSTEAD, 

Eye witnostes of the saiae. 



TOGETHER WITH AN 

INTERESTING APPENDIX. 



^^'^v 



a^ 



IN EXCHAN{^ 

Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1840, 

By Jonathan Rathbun, 
in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of Connecticut. 



CONTENTS 



Page. 

Preface. . ^ - - - 3 

Narrative of Jonathan Rathbun, - 9 

Narrative of Rufiis Avery, - - 17 

Narrative of Stephen Hempstead, - 41 



APPENDIX 



Desertion of Arnold from West Point, 57 

Anecdote of Mrs. Bailey, - - 63 

Eulogy on General Washington, - 65 

Female Whig of '76, by Miss Sizer, 71 

Names of the Killed, - - - 74 

Names of the Wounded, - - - 79 



PREFACE 



• Whoever reads the Narratives which follow, 
will feel himself indebted to Mr. Rathbun, the 
Proprietor of the work, for the indefatigable 
industry, with which, for several years, he has 
employed himself in collecting the materials. 
When more than seventy years of age, he found 
himself in poverty ; and as a measure of relief 
he conceived the plan of this publication, which 
he has now the happiness of presenting to the 
patronage of a discerning public. He has often 
been forced by the necessities which a destitute 
old age, infirm health and a sick family impos- 
ed on him, to solicit the charities of the benefi- 
cent for his relief. Now he has the pleasing 
consciousness of oflTering to his fellow citizens 
a work, which will no doubt nurture the spirit 
of patriotism wherever it may be circulated ; 
while the moderate profits which he anticipates, 



will relieve, at least to a good degree, the wants 
of his old age. He justly feels, in the opinion 
of the writer of this Preface, that his patrons 
will find themselves doubly repaid by the value 
of his book ; and at the same time experience 
the satisfaction of saving one of the last 
soldiers of the American Revolution from the 
pain of begging his daily bread. The Narra- 
tive of Mr. Rathbun, with which the volume 
opens, will still further disclose the claims, 
which he has on the patronage of all who value 
the blessings of a free government. 

The Narrative of Mr. Avery has never be- 
fore been given to the public, and will be found 
to contain the most interesting incidents of the 
Capture of Groton Fort, expressed in the de- 
scriptive and glowing language of an eye wit- 
ness. 

The other articles need only be read to be 
highly appreciated. They are thought to add 
much to the value of the work. 

The whole presents to the public a connec- 
ted view of many minute particulars respecting* 
the events of the fatal 6th of September 17S1, 



which have never before appeared in print ; 
and though history has recorded the outlines 
and monuments stand to perpetuate the san- 
guinary facts, those who read this account will 
have an impression of that day, which none 
but an actor in the scene can impart. 

Fathers read it to your children, and early 
impress on their minds a love for Freedom, and 
teach them to detest a Traitor like Arnold ; 
and to scorn the inhuman and dishonorable con- 
duct of the frenzied villian, who murdered our 
brave Ledyard with his own sword after sur- 
rendering ! 

For the perusal of the young, it is especially 
appropriate, as what they can obtain from his- 
tory will be explained to their understandings, 
and when those in the vicinity tread the ground 
of New London and Groton, they will feel as 
if a voice echoed from the now peaceful hills, 
inspiring them with new ardour and zeal for 
their rights as Freemen, and boldness in de- 
fending their country from foreign invasion. 



NARRATIVE 

OF 

JONATHAN RATHBUN. 



I was born in Colchester, Connecticut, in f 
1765. When 16 years of age, I joined as a 
i volunteer a company of Militia, belonging to j 
my native town, and marched to the relief of 
New London, intelligence having just reached 
us of an attack on that place by the British, un- 
der the conduct of the Traitor Benedict Arnold. 
We left home to the number of about one hun- 
dred men early in the morning of the 7th of 
September 1781, the day after the battle. On 
our arrival in New London we witnessed a 
scene of suiFering and horror which surpasses 
description. The enemy were not to be found, 
but they had left behind them the marks of 
their barbarism and cruelty. The city was in 
2 



10 

ashes. More than one hundred and thirty na- 
ked chimneys were standing in the midst of the 
smoking ruins of stores and dwelling houses. 
Very little property had escaped the conflagra- 
tion, except a part of the shipping which, on 
the first alarm, was sent up the river. But 
though the city was destroyed, it was far from 
being deserted. Numerous companies of mili- 
tia from the neighborhood were pouring into 
the town; and the inhabitants, who had fled 
from their burning dwellings, were returning to 
gaze with anguish on the worthless remains of 
their property. Women were seen walking 
with consternation and despair depicted in their 
countenances, leading or carrying in their 
arms their fatherless and houseless babes, who 
in a few short hours had been bereaved of all 
that was dear on earth. Their homes, their 
provisions and even their apparel were the 
spoils of the enemy or lay in ashes at their feet. 
Some were inquiring with the deepest distress 
for the mangled bodies of their friends, while 
others were seen following the carts which bore 
their murdered fathers, husbands or brothers 



11 

to the grave- More than forty widows were 
made on that fatal day. Never can I forget 
the tears, the sobs, the shrieks of wo, which fell 
from the kindred of our brave countrymen, who 
then gave their lives to achieve our national in- 
dependence. It was my melancholy duty to 
assist in the burial of the dead, which brought 
me directly into the midst of these heart rend- 
ing scenes where the wife first recognized her 
husband, the mother her son, the sister her 
brother, in the body of a mangled soldier, so 
disfigured with wounds and clotted with blood 
and dust, as to be scarcely known! Often on 
my visits to New London have I walked near 
the spot where I helped to inter my slaughtered 
countrymen ; and though many years have 
since rolled away, the recollection is still'fresh 
in my mind, awakening anew the strong feel- 
ings of sympathy I then felt, and rousing into 
activity the love of my country. 

I recollect several interesting facts, con- 
nected with the capture of Fort Griswold and 
the burning of New London, which, I believe, 
are not mentioned in the narratives of Messrs. 
Avery and Hempstead. 



12 

After the capture of the fort and the mas- 
sacre which followed, the enemy laid a line of 
powder from the magazine of the fort to the 
sea, intending to blow up the fort, and com- 
plete the destruction of the wounded within and 
around it. Stillman Hotman who lay not far 
distant, wounded by three strokes of the bayo- 
net in his body, proposed to a wounded man 
near him, to crawl to this line and saturate the 
powder with their blood, and thus save the 
magazine and fort, and perhaps the lives of 
someof their comrades, not mortally wounded. 
He alone succeeded in reaching the line, where 
he was found dead lying on the powder which 
was completely wet with his blood. I do not 
find his name among the killed in the list of 
Mr. Avery. 

Another fact of a different character was 
currently reported at the time and deserves to 
be recorded to the deeper disgrace of the infa- 
mous Arnold. He had a sister living in New 
London, with whom he dined on the day of the 
battle, and whose house was set fire to, as is 
supposed, by his orders, immediately after- 
wards. Perhaps he found her too much of a 



13 

patriot for his taste, and took this step in re- 
venge. * 

The next year, 1782, I was led by the 
spirit which the scenes I had witnessed in New 
London had fanned into a flame, to leave my 
father's house and the peaceful pursuits of 
agriculture, and to enlist as a private in the 
Connecticut State troops. Never shall I for- 
get the impressive circumstances under which 
I took the soldier's oath. With five others of 
my townsmen, who enlisted with me, I was 
marched into the meeting house on the first 
Monday in April, it being freeman's day, and 
there in the presence of a large concourse 
of people, we swore to discharge our duty 
faithfully. We were ordered to fort Stan- 
.\fich, in Stamford, Ct., where I remained 
during all but the last month of my term of 
service. Here I was subjected to the usual 
hardships of a military life. Many a time 
have I been out for several days on scouting 
parties, sometimes to the distance of twenty- 
five miles. These were not only attended with 
fatigue, cold and hunger, but with no little 
2* 



14 

peril of life. On one occasion a rifle ball 
passed through my hat and cut away the hair 
of my head^ but a kind Providence protected 
me. 

A party of fourteen men, under Lewis 
Smith; were surprised by a body of mounted 
troops to the number of sixty, by whom they 
were ordered to surrender. Lewis Smith per- 
ceiving the hopelessness of resistance against 
such an overwhelming force, inquired of the 
British officer in command, whether if they 
should surrender, they would be treated as 
prisoners of war. The answer was, yes ; but 
no sooner had they lowered their muskets, than 
the enemy shot them down. 

As a specimen of the hardships to which the 
private soldier in time of war is constantly 
liable, I may mention the following. One 
evening the orderly sergeants passed around 
among the men and with a whisper commanded 
us to equip ourselves without noise ; and then 
we were marched out of the fort to a woods 
two miles distant, and ordered to lie down on 
the frozen ground, where we passed a bitter 



15 

cold night with only a single blanket and our 
over coats to protect us. We afterwards 
learned that this step was taken to avoid the 
enemy, who it was reported were that night to 
attack the fort with an overwhelming force. 
From such exposures and hardships as these 
my constitution received a shock, from which 
I have never recovered. The sickness of my 
father was considered a sufficient reason for 
giving me a discharge ; and after eleven 
months service I left Stamford for Colchester. 
On reaching home I was immediately taken 
sick, and for six months was unable to do any 
business. From that time mingled mercies 
and misfortunes have attended me. The in- 
firmities thus contracted in the service of my 
country, disabled me from arduous manual 
labor, and much of my life has therefore been 
spent in trade and other light employments. 
My heaviest misfortune, however, has been the 
sickness of my excellent wife, who for forty 
years has been confined to her bed, and for 
whose medication and comfort, with the other 
expenses of my family, the earnings of my 



16 

industry have proved insufficient, especially 
since the infirmities of old age have come upon 
me. But of none of these things do I com- 
plain. They are wisely appointed, and have 
been greatly alleviated by the kindness of a 
generous community. I mention them for the 
sole object of interesting my countrymen in 
my present effort to supply my wants through 
this little book. 

JONATHAN RATHBUN. 



NARRATIVE 

OF 

RUFUS AVERY, 

Coniainwg an account of the transactions at 
New London and Groton, on the Qth Septem- 
ber, 1781, 171 his oicn words. 



'* I had charge of the garrison the night 
previous to the attack. The enemy had not 
yet appeared near us, nor did we expect them 
at this time more than ever ; but it is true 
* we know not what shall he on the morrow.' 
About 3 o'clock in the morning, as soon as 
daylight appeared, so as I could look off, I 
saw the fleet in the harbor, a little distance 
below the light- house ; it consisted of thirty- 
two in number, ships, brigs, schooners and 
sloops. It may well be imagined that a shock 
of consternation, and a thrill of dread appre- 



18 

hension flashed over me. I immediately sent 
for Capt. William Latham, who was captain 
of said fort, and who was near by. He came 
and saw the fleet, and sent notice to Colonel 
Ledyard, who was commander of the harbor, 
and also of Forts Griswold and Trumbull. He 
ordered two large guns to be loaded with 
heavy charges of good powder, &c. Captain 
William Latham took charge of the one which 
was to be discharged from the north east part 
of the fort, and 1 had to attend the other, on 
the west side, and thus we as speedily as 
possible prepared to give alarm to the vicinity, 
as was to be expected in case of danger, two 
guns being the specified signal for alarm in 
distress. But a difnculty now arose from 
having all our plans communicated by a trai- 
tor ! The enemy understood our signal was 
two regular guns, and they fired a third, which 
broke our alarm, and caused it to signify, good 
news or a prize, and thus it was understood 
by our troops, and several companies which 
were lying back ready to come to our assist- 
ance in case of necessity were by this meas- 



19 

ure deterred from coming. The reader may 
well suppose, though time would not permit us 
to consider, or anticipate long, yet the sense 
of our helplessness without additional strength, 
and arms, was dreadful ; but the trying events 
of the few coming hours we had not known ! 
Colonel Ledyard now sent expresses from both 
forts, to call on every militia captain to hurry 
with their companies to the forts. But few 
came : their excuse was, that it was but a false 
alarm, or for some trifling alarm. The ene- 
my's boats now approached and landed eight 
hundred officers and men, some" horses, car- 
riages and cannon, on the Groton side of the 
river, about 8 o'clock in the morning ; and 
another division on the New London side, 
below the light house, consisting of about 
seven hundred otlicers and men. The army 
on Groton banks was divided into two divis- 
ions. Colonel Ayres took command of the 
division, south east of the forts, consisting of 
about half, sheltering them behind a ledge of 
i rocks, about one hundred and thirty rods back. 
Major Montgomery with his division about one 



20 

hundred and fifty rods from the fort, behind a 
high hill. The army on New London side of 
the river, had better and more accommodating 
land to march on than that on Groton side. 
As soon as their army had got opposite Fort 
Trumbull, they divided, and one part pro- 
ceeded to the city of New London, plundered 
and set fire to the shipping and buildings, the 
rest marched down to Fort Trumbull. Cap- 
tain Adam Shapley, who commanded, seeing 
that he was likely to be overpowered by the 
enemy, spiked his cannon, and embarked on 
board the boats which had been prepared for 
him in case of necessity ; but the enemy were 
so quick upon him, that before he and his little 
handful of men could get out of the reach of 
their guns, seven men were badly w^ounded in 
the boats. The remaining one reached Fort 
Griswold, where, poor fellows, they met a 
mortal blow. 

Ayres and Montgomery got their army 
stationed about 9 o'clock in the morning. 
When they appeared in sight, we threw a 
number of shots among them, but they would 



21 

immediately contrive to disappear behind their 
hills. About 10 o'clock they sent a flag of 
truce to demand the surrender of the fort. 
When the flag ^Yas within about forty rods 
from the Fort, we sent a musket ball in front of 
them, and brought them to a stand. Col. 
Ledyard called a council of war, to ascertain 
the minds of his officers and friends about what 
was best to be done in this momentous hour, 
when every moment indicated a bloody and de- 
cisive battle. They all agreed in council, to 
send a flag to them. They did so, choosing 
Capt. Elijah Avery, Capt. Amos Staunton, 
andCapt. John Williams, who went immedi- 
ately to meet the British flag and receive their 
demand, which was to give up the Fort, to them. 
The council was then inquired of what was to 
be done? and the answer returned to the Brit- 
ish flag wasjthat "the Fort would not be given 
up to the British." The flag then returned to 
their division commanded by Ayres, but soon 
returned to us again ; when about a proper 
distance our flag met them and attended to 

their summons, and came back to inform Col. 
3 



22 

Ledyard, that the enemy declared that "if they 
were obliged to take it by storm, they should 
put the Martial Law in full force," that is, 
" what they did not kill by ball, they should put 
to death by sword and bayonet !" Col. Led- 
yard sent back the decisive answer, that " we 
should not give up the Fort to them, let the 
consequences be what they would." 

While these flags were passing and repas- 
sing, we were exchanging shots with the Brit- 
ish at Fort Trumbull, as they had got posses- 
sion of it before the battle commenced in action 
at Fort Griswold. We could throw our shot 
into Fort Trumbull without any difficulty, but 
the British could not cause theirs to enter Fort 
Griswold, because they could not aim high 
enough. They had got possession and in 
use, some of our best pieces and ammunition, 
which were left in Fort Trumbull, when Capt. 
Shapley left it and retreated. About 11 
o'clock in the morning, when they perceived 
what we were about to do, they started with 
both their divisions, Colonel Ayres advancing 
with his in solid columns. As soon as they 



23 

reached the level ground, and in a proper 
range, we saluted them with an eighteen 
pounder, then loaded with two hags of grape 
shot. Captain Elias H. Halsey was the one 
who directed the guns, and took aim at the 
enemy. He had long practiced on board a 
privateer, and manifested his skill at this time. 
I was at the gun with others when it was dis- 
charged into the British ranks, and it cleared 
a very wide space in their solid columns. It 
has been reported, by good authority, that 
about twenty were killed and wounded by that 
one discharge of grape shot. As soon as the 
column was broken by loss of men and offi- 
cers, they were seen to scatter and trail arms, 
coming on with a quick step towards the fort, 
inclining to the west. We continued firing, 
but they advanced upon the south and west 
side of the fort. Colonel Ayres was mortally 
wounded. Major Montgomery now advanced, 
with his division, coming on in solid columns, 
bearing around to the north, until they got 
east of the redoubt or battery ,^ which was east 
of the fort, then marching with a quick step 



24 

into the battery. Here we sent among them 
large and repeated charges of grape shot, 
which destroyed a number, as we could per- 
ceive them thinned and broken. Then they 
started for the fort, a part of them in platoons, 
discharging their guns ; and some of the offi- 
cers and men scattering, they came around on 
the east and north side of the fort. Here 
Major Montgomery fell, near the north east 
part of the fort. We might suppose the loss 
of their commanders might have dismayed 
them, but they had proceeded so far, and the. 
excitement and determination on slaughter 
was so great, they could not be prevented. 
As soon as their army had entirely surrounded 
the garrison, a man attempted to open the 
gates ; but he lost his life in a moment, before 
he could succeed. There was hard fighting, 
and shocking slaughter, and much blood spilt 
before another attempt was made to open the 
gates, which was at this time successful ; for 
our little number, which was only one hundred 
and fifty five, officers and privates, (the most 
of them volunteers,) were, by this time over- 



25 

powered. There was then no block house on 
the parade as there is now, so that the enemy 
had every chance to wound and kill every 
man. When they had overpowered us and 
driven us from our station at the breastwork 
into the fort, and Colonel Ledyard saw how 
few men he had remaining to fight with, he 
ceased resistance. They all left their posts 
and went on to the open parade in the fort, 
where the enemy had a fair opportunity to 
massacre us, as there were only six of us 
to an hundred of them ! This, this was a mo- 
ment of indiscribable misery ! We can fight 
with good hearts while hope and prospects of 
victory aid us ; but, after we have fought and 
bled, and availed nothing, to yield to be mas- 
sacred by the boasting enemy, 'tries men's 
hearts !' Our ground was drenched with hu- 
man gore ; our wounded and dying could not 
have any attendance, while each man was 
almost hopeless of his own preservation ; but 
our country's danger caused the most acute 
anxiety. Now I saw the enemy mount the 

parapets like so many madmen, all at once 
3* 



26 

seemingly. TKey swung their hats around, and 
then discharged their guns into the fort, and 
then those who had not fallen by ball, they 
began to massacre with sword and bayonet. 
I was on the west side of the fort, with Cap- 
tain Edward Latham and Mr. C. Latham, 
standing on the platform, and had a full view of 
the enemy's conduct. I had then a hole 
through my clothes by a ball, and a bayonet 
rent through my coat to my flesh. The enemy 
approached us, knocked down the two men I 
mentioned, with the britch of their guns, and I 
expected, had ended their lives, but they did 
not. By this time that division which had been 
commanded by Montgomery, now under charge 
of Bloomfield, unbolted the other gates, march- 
ed into the Fort and formed into a solid column. 
I, at this moment left my station and wxnt 
across the parade, towards the south end of the 
barracks. I noticed Col. Wm. Ledyard on 
the parade, stepping towards the enemy and 
Bloomfield, gently raising and lowering his 
sword as a token of bowing and submission ; he 
was about six feet from them when I turned my 



27 

eyes off from him, and went up to the door of 
the barracks and looked at the enemy who 
were discharging their guns through the win- 
dows. It was but a moment that I had turned 
my eyes from Col. L. and saw him alive, and 
now I saw him weltering in his gore ! Oh, the 
hellish spite and madness of a man that will 
murder a reasonable and noble-hearted Officer, 
in the act of submitting and surrendering ! I 
can assure my countrymen, that I felt the thrill 
of such a horrid deed, more than the honorable 
and martial-like war of months ! We are in- 
formed, that the wretch who murdered him, 
exclaimed, ashecamenear, " Who commands 
this Fort ?" Ledyard handsomely replied, " I 
did, but you do now :" at the some moment 
handing him his sword, which the un- 
feeling villain buried in his breast ! The 
column continued marching towards the south 
end of the parade, and I could do no better 
than to go across the parade before them, amid 
their fire. They discharged three platoons, as I 
crossed before them at this time. I believe 
there were not less than five or six hundred of 



?8 

the British on the parade, and in the Fort. They 
killed and wounded every man they possibly 
could, and it was all done in less than two min- 
utes ! I had nothing to expect but to drop 
with the rest; one mad looking fellow put his 
bayonet to my side, swearing "by Jesus he 
would skipper me!" I looked him earnestly 
in the face and eyes, and begged him to have 
mercy, and spare my life ! 1 must say, I be- 
lieve God prevented him from killing me, for 
he put his bayonet three times into me, 
and I seemed to be in his power, as well as 
Lieut. Enoch Staunton, who was stabbed to the 
heart and fell at my feet at this time. I think 
no scene ever exceeded this for continued and 
barbarous massacre after surrender. There 
were two large doors to the Magazine, which 
made a space wide enough to admit ten men to 
stand in one rank. There marched up a pla- 
toon often men just by where I stood, and at 
once discharged their guns into the Magazine 
among our killed and wounded, and also among 
those who had e caped uninjured, and as soon 
as these had fired another platoon was ready, 



29 

and immediately took their place when they fell 
back. At this moment Bloomlield came swiftly 
around the corner of the building, and raising 
his sword with exceeding quickness, exclaimed 
" stop firing ! or you will send us all to Hell 
together ! I was very near him when he spoke. 
He knew there must be much powder deposit- 
ed and scattered about the Magazine, and if 
they continued throwing in fire we should all 
be blown up. I think it must, before this, have 
been the case, had not the ground and every 
thing been wet w^ith human blood. We trod in 
blood ! We trampled under feet the limbs 
of our Countrymen, our neighbors and dear 
kindred. Our ears were filled with the groans 
of the dying, when the more stunning sound of 
the artillery w^ould give place to the death 
shrieks. After this they ceased killing and 
went to stripping, not only the dead, but the 
wounded and those who were not wounded. 
They then ordered us all who were able to 
march, to the N. E. part of the parade, and 
those who could walk to help those who were 
wounded so bad as not to go of themselves. 



30 

Mr. Samuel Edgcomb Jr. and myself were or- 
dered to carry out Ensign Charles Eldridge, 
who was shot through the knee joints ; he was 
a very large heavy man, and with our fasting 
and violent exercise of the day, we were but ill 
able to do it, or more than to sustain our own 
weight ; but we had to submit. We with all 
the prisoners were taken out upon the parade, 
about tv/o rods from the Fort, and ordered to 
sit down immediately, or they would put their 
bayonets into us. The battle was nov/ ended. 
It was about 1 o'clock in the afternoon, and 
since the hour of eight in the morning, what a 
scene of carnage, of anxiety, and of loss had 
we experienced. The enemy now began to 
take care of their dead and wounded. They 
took off six of the outer doors of the barracks, 
and with four men at each door, they brought 
in one man at a time. There were twenty- 
four men thus employed for two hours, as fast 
as they could walk. They deposited them on 
the west side of the parade, in the Fort, where 
it was the most comfortable place, and screen- 
ed from the hot sun which was pouring down 



31 

upon us, aggravating our wounds, and causing 
many to faint and die who might have lived with 
good care. By my side lay two most worthy 
and excellent officers, Capt. Youngs Led^^ard, 
and Capt. N. Moore, in the agonies of death. 
Their heads rested on my thighs, as I sat or 
lay there. They had their reason well and 
spoke. They asked for water. I could give 
them none, as I was to be thrust through if I 
got up. I asked the enemy, who were passing 
by us, to give us some w^ater for ray dying 
friends and for myself. As the well was near 
they granted this request ; but even then I 
feared they would put something poison into 
it, that they might get us out of the way the 
sooner ; and they had said, repeatedly, that 
the last of us should die before the sun set f ' 
Oh what revenge and inhumanity pervaded 
their steeled hearts ! They effected what was 
threatened in the summons, sent by the flag 
in the morning, to Col. Ledyard, "That those 
who were not killed by the musket, should bo^ 
by the sword," <fec. But I must think they 
became tired of human butchery, and so let us 



32 

live. They kept us on the ground, the garri- 
son charged, till about two hours had been 
spent in taking care of their men ; and then 
came and ordered every man of us that could 
walk, to " rise up." Sentries were placed 
around with guns loaded, and bayonets fixed, 
and orders given that every one who would not, 
in a moment, obey commands, should be shot 
dead or run through ! I had to leave the two 
dying men who w^ere resting on me, dropping 
their heads on the cold and hard ground, giving 
them one last and pitying look. Oh God, this 
was hard work. They both died that night. 
We marched down to the bank of the river so 
as to be ready to embark on board the British 
vessels. There were about thirty of us sur- 
rounded by sentries. Capt. Bloomfield then 
came and took dowai the names of the prison- 
ers who were able to march down with us. 
Where I sat, I had a fair view of their move- 
ments. They were setting fire to the build- 
ings and bringing the plunder and laying it 
down near us. The sun was about half an 
hour high. I can never forget the whole ap- 



33 

pearance of all about me. New London was 

in flames ! The inhabitants deserted their 

habitations to save life, which was more highly 

prized. Above and around us were our un- 

buried dead, and our dying friends. None to 

appeal to for sustenance in our exhausted state 

but a maddened enemy, — not allowed to move 

a step or make any resistance, but with loss of 

life, — and sitting to see the property of our 

neighbors consumed by fire, or the spoils of a 

triumphing enemy ! 

Reader, but little can be described, while 

much is felt. There were still remaining, near 

the fort, a great number of the British who 

were getting ready to leave. They loaded up 

our large ammunition wagon that belonged to 

the fort with the wounded men that could not 

walk, and about twenty of the enemy drew it 

from the fort to the brow^ of the hill which leads 

down to the river. The declivity is very steep 

for the distance of thirty rods to the river. 

As soon as the wagon began to move down the 

hill, it pressed so hard against them that they 

found they were unable to hold it back, and 
4 



34 

jumped away from it as quick as possible, leav- 
ing it to thrash along down the hill with great 
speed, till the shafts struck a large apple tree 
stump, with a most violent crash, hurting the 
poor dying, and wounded men in it, in a most 
inhuman manner. Some of the wounded fell 
outand fainted away ; then a part of the com- 
pany where I sat, ran and brought the men and 
the wagon along. They by some means got 
the prisoners who were wounded badly, into a 
house near by, belonging to Ensign Ebenezer 
Avery, who was one of the wounded in the 
wagon. Before the prisoners were brought 
to the house the soldiers had set fire to it, but 
others put it out, and made use of it for this 
purpose. Capt. Bloomfield paroled, to be left 
at home here, these wounded prisoners, and 
took Ebenezer Ledyard, Esq. as hostage for 
them, to see them forthcoming when called for. 
Now the boats had come for us who could go 
on board the fleet. The officer spoke with a 
doleful and menacing tone, *'Come, you rebels, 
go on board." This was a consummation of 
all I had seen or endured through the day. 



35 

This wounded my feelings in a thrilling man- 
ner. After all my sufferings and toil, to add 
the pang of leaving my native land, my wife, 
my good neighbors, and probably to suffer still 
more with cold and hunger, for already I had 
learned that I was with a cruel enemy. But I 
was in the hands of a higher power — over 
which no human being could hold superior con- 
trol — and by God's preservation I am still alive, 
through all the hardships and dangers of the 
war, while almost every one about me, who 
shared the same, has met either a natural or 
an unnatural death. When we, the prisoners, 
went down to the shore to the boats, they 
would not bring them near, but kept them off 
where the water was knee deep to us, obliging 
us, weak and worn as we were, to wade to 
them. We were marched down in two ranks, 
one on each side of the boat. The officer 
spoke very harshly to us, to "get aboard imme- 
diately." They rowed us down to an armed 
sloop, commanded by one Capt. Thomas, as 
they called him, a refugee tory, and he lay 
with his vessel within the fleet. As soon as we 



36 

were on board, they hurried us down into the 
hold of the sloop, where were their fires for 
cooking, and besides being very hot, it was 
filled with smoke. The hatch-way was closed 
tight, so that we were near suffocating for want 
of air to breathe. We begged them to spare 
our lives, so they gave us some relief, by open- 
ing the hatch-way and permitting us to come 
upon deck, by two or three at a time, but not 
without sentries watching us with gun and 
bayonet. We were now extremely exhausted 
and faint for want of food ; when after being 
on board twenty-four hours, they gave us a 
mess o^ hogs brains ; the hogs which they took 
on Groton banks when they plundered there. 
After being on board Thomas's sloop nearly 
three days, with nothing to eat or drink that 
we could swallow, we began to feel as if a 
struggle must be made, in some way, to pro- 
long our existence, which, after all our escapes, 
seemed still to be depending. In such a time, 
we can know, for a reality, how strong is the love 
of life. In the room where we were confined, 
were a great many weapons of war, and some 



37 

of the prisoners whispered that we might make 
a prize of the sloop. This in some way was 
overheard, and got to the officer's ears, and 
now we were immediately put in a stronger 
place in the hold of the vessel ; and they ap- 
peared so enraged that I was almost sure we 
should share a decisive fate, or suffer severely. 
Soon they commenced calling us, one by one, 
on deck. As I went up they seized me, tied 
my hands behind me with a strong rope-yarn, 
and drew it so tight that my shoulder-bones 
crackedandalmost touched each other. Then 
a boat came from a fourteen-gun brig, com- 
manded by one Steele. Into this boat I was 
ordered to get, without the use of my hands, 
over the Sloops bulwarks, which were all of 
three feet high, and then from these I had to 
fall, or throw myself into the boat. My distress 
of body and agitated feelings I cannot describe ; 
and no relief could be anticipated, but only 
forebodings of a more severe fate. A prisoner 
with an enemy, an enraged and revengeful 
enemy, is, a place where I pray my reader may 
never come. They made us all he down un- 
4* 



38 

der the seats on which the man sat to row, and 
so we were conveyed to the brig ; going on 
board, we were ordered to stand in one rank 
by the gunwale, and in front of us was placed 
a spar, within about a foot of each man. 
Here we stood, with a sentry to each of us, 
having orders to shoot or bayonet us if we at- 
tempted to stir out of our place. All this time 
we had nothing to eat or drink, and it rained 
and was very cold. We were detained in this 
position about two hours, when we had liberty 
to go about the main deck. Night approached, 
and we had no supper, nor any thing to lie up- 
on but the wet deck. We were on board this 
brig about four days, and then were removed 
on board a ship commanded by Capt. Scott, 
who was very kind to the prisoners. He took 
me on to the quarter deck with him, and ap- 
peared to have the heart of a man. I should 
think he v;^as about sixty years of age. I re- 
mained with him until I was exchanged. Capt. 
Nathaniel Shaw came down to N. York with 
the American flag, after me and four others, 
who were prisoners with me, and belonged to 



39 

Fort Griswold, and who were brave, and fine 
young men. Gen. Mifflin went with the Brit- 
ish flag to meet this American flag. I sailed 
with him about twenty miles. He asked me 
many questions, all of which I took caution 
how I answered, and gave him no information. 
I told him I was very sorry that he should 
come to destroy so many, many brave men, 
burn their property, distress so many families, 
and make such desolation. I did not think 
they could be said to be honorable in so doing. 
He said " we might thank our own countrymen 
for it." I told him I had no thanks for him. 
I then asked the Gen. if I might ask him a few 
questions. " As many as you please." I ask- 
ed him how many of the army who made the 
attack upon New London and Groton were 
missing ? As you, sir, are the commissary of 
the British army, I suppose you can tell. He 
replied, " that by the returns, there were two 
hundred and twenty odd missing, but what had 
become of them he knew not." We advanced, 
and the flags met and I was exchanged and 
permitted to return home." Here I close my 



40 

narative ; for, as I was requested, I have given 
a particular and unexaggerated account of that 
which I saw with mine own eyes. 

RUFUS AVERY, 

Orderly Sergt. under Caj)t, Wm. Latham. ( 



NARRATIVE 

OF 

STEPHEN HEMPSTEAD. 



The author of the following narrative of events 
entered the service of his country in 1775, and 
arrived in Boston on the day of the battle of 
Bunker Hill. He was at Dorchester Point — 
was on Long Island at the time of the retreat 
of the American army — and was also a volun- 
teer in the first ships that were sent to destroy 
the Asia, 84 gun ship, and a frigate lying 
above Fort Washington. In this attempt they 
were unsuccessful, although grappled to the 
enemy's vessel 20 minutes. For the bravery 
displayed by them, they received the particu- 
ar thanks of the commanding officer, in per- 
son, and in general orders, and forty dollars 
were ordered to be paid to each person en- 
gaged. He was afterwards wounded by a 



42 

grape-shot while defending the lines at Haer- 
lem Heights, which broke two of his ribs. He 
continued in the service, and was again wound- 
ed on the 6th of September, 1781. He is now 
more than 76 years of age. He formerly re- 
sided in New London. He enjoyed the reception 
of Gen. LaFayette in that place during his last 
visit to this country, and has, within a few 
years written this account in full, for publica- 
tion. 

"On the morning of the 6th of September, 
1781, twenty-four sail of the enemy's shipping 
appeared to the westward of New London har- 
bor. The enemy landed in two divisions, of 
about 800 men each, commanded by that in- 
famous traitor to his country, Benedict Arnold, 
who headed the division that landed on the 
New London side, near Brown's farms ; the 
other division, commanded by Col. Ayres, 
landed on Groton Point, nearly opposite. I 
was first sergeant of Capt. Adam Shapley's 
company of State troops, and was stationed 
with him at the time, with about 23 men, at 
Fort Trumbull, on the New London side. 



43 

This was a mere breastwork or water battery, 
open from behind, and the enemy coming on 
us from that quarter, we spiked our cannon, 
and commenced a retreat across the river to 
Fort Griswold in three boats. The enemy 
was so near that they overshot us with their 
muskets, and succeeded in capturing one boat 
with six men commanded by Josiah Smith, a 
private. They afterwards proceeded to New 
London and burnt the town. We were re- 
ceived by the garrison with enthusiasm, being 
considered experienced artillerists, whom they 
much needed ; and we were immediately as- 
signed to our stations. The Fort was an ob- 
long square, with bastions at opposite angles, 
its longest side fronting the river in a N. W. 
and S. E. direction. Its walls were of stone, 
and were 10 or 12 feet high on the lower side 
and surrounded by a ditch. On the wall were 
pickets, projecting over 12 feet ; above this 
was a parapet with embrasures, and within a 
platform for the cannon, and a step to mount 
upon, to shoot over the parapet with small 
arms. In the S. W. bastion was a flag-staff, 



44 

and in the side near the opposite angle, was 
the gate, in front of which was a triangular 
breastwork to protect the gate ; and to the 
right of this was a redoubt, with a three pound- 
er in it, which was about 120 yards from the 
gate. Between the Fort and the river was 
another battery, with a covered way, but which 
could not be used in this attack, as the enemy 
appeared in a different quarter. The garrison 
with the volunteers, consisted of about 160 men. 
Soon after our arrival, the enemy appeared in 
force in some woods about half a mile S. E. of 
the Fort, from whence they sent a flag of truce, 
which was met by Capt. Shapley, demanding 
an unconditional surrender, threatening at the 
same time, to storm the Fort instantly, if the 
terms were not accepted. A council of war 
was held, and it was the unanimous voice, that 
the garrison were unable to defend themselves 
against so superior a force. But a militia 
Colonel who was then in the Fort, and had a 
body of men in the immediate vicinity, said he 
would reinforce them with 2 or 300 men in fif- 
teen minutes, if they would hold out ; Cob 



45 

Ledyard agreed to send back a defiance, upon 
the most solemn assurance of immediate suc- 
cour. For this purpose, Col. started, 

his men being then in sight ; but he was no 
more seen, nor did he even attempt a diversion 
in our favor. When the answer to their de- 
mand had been returned by Capt. Shapley, 
the enemy were soon in motion, and marched 
with great rapidity, in a solid column, to with- 
in a short distance of the Fort, where dividing 
the column, they rushed furiously and simulta- 
neously to the assault of the S. W. bastion and 
the opposite sides. They were however re- 
pulsed with great slaughter, their commander 
mortally w^ounded, and Major Montgomery, 
next in rank, killed, having been thrust through 
the body, whilst in the act of scaling the walls 
at the S. W, bastion, by Capt. Shapley. The 
command then devolved on Col. Beckwith a 
refugee from New Jersey, who commanded a 
corps of that description. The enemy rallied 
and returned the attack with great vigor, but 
were received and repulsed with equal firmness. 
During the attack a shot cut the halyards of 



46 

the flag, and it fell to the ground, but was in- 
stantly remounted on a pike pole. This acci- 
dent proved fatal to us, as the enemy supposed 
it had been struck by its defenders, rallied again, 
and rushing with redoubled impetuosity, car- 
ried the S. W. bastion by storm. Until this 
moment, our loss was trifling in number, being 
6 01' 7 killed; and 18 or 20 wounded. Never 
was a post more bravely defended, nor a gar- 
rison more barbarously butchered. We fought 
with all kinds of weapons, and at all places, 
with a courage that deserved a better fate. 
Many of the enemy were killed under the walls 
by throwing simple shot over on them, and nev- 
er would we have relinquished our arms, had 
we had the least idea that such a catastrophe 
would have followed. To describe this scene 
I must be permitted to go back a little in my 
narrative. I commanded an 18 pounder on the 
south side of the gate, and while in the act of 
righting my gun, a ball passed through the 
embrasure, struck me a little above the right 
ear, grazing the skull, and cutting off" the veins 
which bled profusely. A handkerchief was tied 



47 

around it and I continued at my duty. Discov- 
ering some little time after, that a British sol- 
dier had broken a picket at the bastion on my 
left, and was forcing himself through the hole, 
whilst the men stationed there were gazing at 
the battle which raged opposite to them, I cried, 
my brave fellows, the enemy are breaking 
in behind you, and raised my pike to despatch 
the intruder, when a ball struck my left arm at 
the elbow, and my pike fell to the ground. 
Nevertheless I grasped it with my right hand, 
and with the men, who turned and fought man- 
fully, cleared the breach. The enemy, how 
ever, soon after forced the S. W. bastion, where 
Capt. Shapley, Capt. Peter Richards, Lieut. 
Richard Chapman and several other men of 
distinction, and volunteers, had fought with un- 
conquerable courage, and were all either killed 
or mortally wounded, and which had sustained 
the brunt of every attack. 

Capt. P. Richards, Lieut. Chapman, and 
several others were killed in the bastion ; Capt. 
Shapley, and others wounded. He died of his 
wounds in January following. 



48 

Col. Ledyard, seeing the enemy within the 
fort, gave orders to cease firing, and to throw 
down our arms as the Fort had surrendered. 
We did so, but they continued firing upon us, 
crossed the fort and opened the gate, when they 
marched in, firing in platoons upon those who 
were retreating to the magazine and barrack 
rooms for safety. At this moment the renega.- 
de Colonel B. commanding, cried out, who 
commands this garrison ? Col. Ledyard, who 
was standing near me, answered, " I did sir, 
but you do now," at the same time stepping 
forward, handed him his sword with the point 
towards himself. At this instant I perceived 
a soldier in the act of bayoneting me from be- 
hind. I turned suddenly round and grasped 
his bayonet, endeavoring to unship it, and 
knock off the thrust — but in vain. Having but 
one hand, he succeeded in forcing it into my 
right hip, above the joint, and just below the 
abdomen, and crushed me to the ground. The 
first person I sa\y afterwards, was my brave 
commander, a corpse by my side, having been 
run through the body with his own sword, by 



49 

the savage renegade. Never was a scene of 
more brutal wanton carnage witnessed, than 
now took place. The enemy were still firing 
upon us in platoons, and in the barrack rooms, 
which were continued for some minutes, when 
they discovered they were in danger of being 
blown up, by communicating fire to the powder 
scattered at the mouth of the magazine, while 
delivering out cartridges ; nor did it then cease 
in the rooms for some minutes longer. All 
this time the bayonet was "freely used," even 
on those who were helplessly wounded, and in 
the agonies of death. I recollect Capt. Wm. 
Seymour, a volunteer from Hartford, had 13 
bayonet wounds, although his knee had previ- 
ously been shattered by a ball, so much so, 
that it was obliged to be amputated the next 
day. But I need not mention particular cases. 
I have already said that we had 6 killed and 
18 wounded previous to their storming our 
lines ; 85 were killed in all, 35 mortally and 
dangerously wounded, and 40 taken priso- 
ners to New York, most of them slightly 

hurt. 

5* 



50 

After the massacre, they plundered us of 
every thing we had, and left us literally naked. 
When they commenced gathering us up to- 
gether with their own wounded, they put theirs 
under the shade of the platform, and exposed 
us to the sun, in front of the barracks, where 
we remained over an hour. Those that could 
stand were then paraded, and ordered to the 
landing, while those that could not, (of which 
number I was one) were put in one of our 
ammunition wagons, and taken to the brow of 
the hill (which was very steep, and at least 
100 rods in descent,) from whence it was per- 
mitted to run down by itself, but was arrested 
in its course, near the river, by an apple tree. 
The pain and anguish we all endured in this 
rapid descent, as the wagon jumped and jostled 
over rocks and holes is inconceivable ; and the 
jar in its arrest was like bursting the cords of 
life asunder, and caused us to shriek with al- 
most supernatural force. Our cries were dis- 
tinctly heard and noticed on the opposite side 
of the river, (which is a mile wide) amidst all 
the confusion which raged in burning and 



51 

sacking the town. Wc renfiained in the wag- 
on more than an hour, hefore our humane con- 
querers hunted us up, when w^e were again pa- 
raded and Uiid on the beach, preparatory to em- 
barkation. But by the interposition of Ebene- 
zer Ledyard, (brother to Col. L.) who humane- 
ly represented our deplorable situation, and the 
impossibility of our being able to reach New 
York, 35 of us were paroled in the usual form, 
being near the house of Ebenezer Avery, who 
was also one of our number, we were taken into 
it. Here we had not long remained, before a 
marauding party set fire to every room, evident- 
ly intending to burn us up with the house. The 
party soon left it, when it was with difficulty 
extinguished and we were thus saved from the 
flames. Ebenezer Ledyard again interfered 
and obtained a sentinel to remain and guard 
us until the last of the enemy embarked, about 
11 o'clock at night. None of our own people 
came to us till near daylight the next morning, 
not knowing previous to that time, that the en- 
emy had departed. 

Such a night of distress and anguish was 



52 

scarcely ever passed by mortal. Thirty-five 
of us were lying on the bare floor — stiff, man- 
gled, and wounded in every manner, exhausted 
with pain, fatigue and loss of blood, without 
clothes or any thing to cover us, trembling with 
cold and and spasms of extreme anguish, with- 
out fire or light, parched with excruciating 
thirst, not a wound dressed nor a soul to ad- 
minister to one of our wants, nor an assisting 
hand to turn us during these long tedious hours 
of the night ; nothing but groans and unavailing 
sighs were heard, and two of our number did 
not live to see the light of the morning, which 
brought with it some ministering angels to our 
relief. The first was in the person of Miss 
Fanny Ledyard, of Southold, L. I. then on a 
visit to her uncle, our murdered commander, 
who held to my lips a cup of warm chocolate, 
and soon after returned with wine and other re- 
freshments, which revived us a little. For 
these kindnesses, she has never ceased to re- 
ceive my most grateful thanks, and fervent 
prayers for her felicity. 

The cruelty of our enemy cannot be con- 



53 

eeived, and our renegade countrymen surpass- 
ed in this respect, if possible, our British foes. 
"VVe were at least an hour after the battle, with- 
in a few steps of a pump in the garrison, well 
supplied with water, and, although we were 
suffering with thirst, they would not permit us 
to take one drop of it, nor give us any them- 
selves. Some of our number, who were not 
disabled from going to the pump, were repulsed 
with the bayonet, and not one drop did I taste 
after the action commenced, although begging 
for it after I was wounded, of all who came 
near me, until relieved by Miss Ledyard. We 
were a horrible sight at this time. Our own 
friends did not know us — even my own wife 
came in the room in search of me, and did not 
recognize me, and as I did not see her, she left 
the room to seek for me among the slain, who 
had been collected under a large Elm tree near 
the house. It was with the utmost difficulty 
that many of them could be identified, and we 
were frequently called upon to assist their 
friends in distinguishing them, by remember- 
ing particular wounds, <fec. Being myself taken 



54 

out by two men for this purpose, I met my wife 
and brother, who, after my wounds were dress- 
ed by Dr. Downer, from Preston, took me — 
not to my own home, for that was in ashes, as 
also every article of my property, furniture 
and clothing — but to my brother's where I lay 
eleven months as helpless as a child, and to 
this day feel the effects of it severely. 

Such was the battle of Groton Heights ; an^ 
such, as far as my imperfect manner and lan- 
guage can describe, a part of the sufferings 
which we endured. Never, for a moment, 
have I regretted the share I had in it ; I would 
for an equal degree of honor, and the pros- 
perity which has resulted to my country from 
the Revolution, be willing, if possible, to suffer 
it again. 

STEPHEN HEMPSTEAD. 



APPENDIX. 



DESERTION OF ARNOLD 

FRO jM 

WEST POINT. 



Benedict Arnold, it is well known, was a na- 
tive of Connecticut, and, by his knowledge of 
the situation of this seaport and fortress, was 
capable of conducting the British up to its 
shores, whigh, it is probable, they would not 
have hazarded had they not had a good pilot. 

It may be instructing to those in a distant 
part of the country, into whose hands these 
pages may fall, to observe, that New London 
is one of the best seaports in Connecticut, 
with a most excellent harbor, being but about 
three miles up the mouth of the Thames which 
falls into Long Island sound, which has a broad 
communication with the Ocean. The Thames 
is a water communication between New Lon- 
don and Norwich 14 miles north. It flows in 
6 



58 

a valley between the two elevated portions 
of land, New London, on its west side, and Gro- 
ton on its east. The land on the east of this 
stream rises to a sublime elevation, commanding 
a fair view of nearly the whole sound ; on this 
hill stood the Fort Griswold, of which our narra- 
tion describes the capture ; and on its site is 
now erected a splendid Monument, inscribed 
with the names of the brave heroes, who gave 
their lives to save their Country. 

The following particulars of Arnold's escape 
from the demands of Justice, and the manner 
in which he effected his desertion, were obtain- 
ed from an eye witness, and serve still further 
to explain the whole transaction. 

Mr. Ebenezer Chase, was a private in the 
New Hampshire Militia, which relieved the 
line of Pennsylvania, at West Point in 1780, 
when those troops were veteran and were need- 
ed elsewhere. Mr. Chase, with several others, 
being off duty, was on the shore of the Hud- 
son when Arnold deserted. When Gen. Wash- 
ington assigned the command of West Point to 
Arnold, he left the barge in his possession. A 



59 

temporary hut was erected on the east shore, 
for accommodation of the four oarsmen who 
managed the barge. On the morning of his 
desertion, Arnold rode down from his head- 
quarters, to the shore, very fast, threw the reins 
to his attendant, and ordered the barge to be 
manned. He directed his course towards the 
Point ; but, on reaching the middle of the river, 
the boat was observed to take a different direc- 
tion and move down the stream with great 
rapidity. The explanation was afterwards thus 
made by the barge-men. " He hoisted a flag 
of truce, and told them to pull for the Vulture 
(British Sloop of War) saying he had business 
with the Captain. He promised them if they 
would row him down to the Vulture with speed, 
he would give each of them a guinea and a 
gallon of rum. On nearing the sloop, and 
being within range of her guns, he opened his 
plan tQ them, saying ' I have served the un- 
grateful scoundrels long enough;' and declar- 
ed if they would go with him, they should have 
double pay, and they should be made officers 
in the British service." One of them replied 



60 

that " he did not understand fighting on both 
sides." " Then," said Arnold, ' You are 
Prisoners !" Arnold ascended the deck, and 
was received by the Marines with presented 
arms : he then ordered his men to come on 
board, as prisoners of war. One of them said 
" It was a shabby trick, as they had toiled so 
hard to get along, now to refuse the promised 
reward, and make them prisoners." The Eng- 
lish Captain heard this, and stepping forward, 
observed, " Gen. Arnold, I command this ves- 
sel, and while I walk this quarter deck, no 
such mean transaction shall take i3lace here." 
Then addressing the boatmen continued, 
'' My good fellows, I respect your principles of 
honor, and fidelity to your country, although 
you are enemies to your King ; you shall have 
the liberty to go or stay as you choose." Here, 
(taking from his purse the money) " are your 
promised guineas ; — steward, put up four gal- 
lons of rum for these men." The boatmen 
thanked the gallant Sailor, for his generosity 
and justice, and returned in safety to head quar- 
ters, and reported the proceedings to Gen. 



61 

Washington, who had just returned to camp. 
Arnold, during the conversation on hoard, re- 
tired to the cabin enraged and chagrined. 

This statement was made by Chase about a 
fortnight before his death, in 1831. He also 
stated that he saw the unfortunate Andre going 
to execution. The cause of Arnold's deser- 
tion was, that the poor deluded Major A. was 
taken ; information being sent him by the 
person himself. Arnold manifested an in- 
veterate hatred of his country, as his succeeding 
conduct evidently exhibited, till the close of hos- 
tilities. After the war, he went to England, 
where he was despised, and died chagrined and 
wretched. It is related, that the unfeeling 
wretch, called on the widowed Mother and Sis- 
ter of his unfortunate victim (Andre) announc- 
ing his name to the servant : but they return- 
ed answer that, '' they had no desire to see 
him." 

6* 



ANE CDOTE 

O F 

MRS. BAILEY. 



It will be interesting to the reader to hear 
that there still lives, on Groton banks, the 
zealous old lady who gave \\qy flannel petticoat, 
in the emergency of the capture of the Fort. 
She is a real heroine of the "old school," and, at 
this advanced age, rehearses that event, with 
all the enthusiasm of youth. She is much 
interested in all the subjects which agitate the 
political world, and possesses considerable cor- 
rect information. She is visited by the great, 
and indulges their curiosity, by telling the oft- 
repeated tale, which she does, with a pathos, 
that excites admiration. And so novel is the 
fact, though recorded on historic page, that 
many request her to relate it, that they may 



64 

have to say, " I have seen Mrs. Bailey who 
gave the petticoat." She says, "In the heat 
of action there came a soldier, rushing into my 
apartment, saying, ' for God's sake, give us 
some flannel for cartridges !' " " I will" said I. 
*' Here is a blanket 'tis all I have," — but, that 
moment, recollecting her garment, she hastily 
unpinned the same, and handed it to the man, 
who flew to his post," <fec. Thus she has im- 
mortalized her name, as a zealous lover of 
her country. 



EULOGY 

ON 

GENERAL WASHINGTON. 



Washington, whose immortal name stands 
recorded on the historic page, first and greatest 
of men, and who led the American forces 
through the eight years most trying struggle, 
now lies mouldering with the dust of Mount 
Vernon; and his choice spirit is with God. 
We think there could never be combined in 
one man, so many excellent and superior qual- 
ities as signalized our venerated Commander- 
in-Chief, — a great hero, — a most wise and 
judicious counsellor in war and in peace, — a 
pleasant friend and neighbor in his domestic 
retreat, — a christian, — possessed of the finest 
feelings of humanity and mercy. Washington 
was a man of prayer. Often, during the war, 



m 

and particularly when preparing for an attack, 
he was seen by his Aids and attendants to re- 
tire and pray ; imploring the assistance and 
direction of the God of Justice, and His omni- 
potent arm of defence against oppression. 

His peculiar humanity and sympathy, ap- 
peared in the case of the unfortunate Andre. 
He deeply regretted the necessity of putting to 
death that fine officer, in the flower of his days ; 
and too, when he was not the malicious insti- 
gator, but only the agent for another's crime. 
It is related that Washington often sent him a 
meal from his own table, while he lay in pris- 
on ; and at his melancholy execution, where 
thousands flocked for curiosity, and to gaze 
unfeelingly on that appalling spectacle of hu- 
man woe, the benevolent, the noble hearted 
Washington, and his guards would not appear. 
General Washington's name and virtues 
ought to be enshrined in the hearts of his 
countrymen as the rolling ocean of time will 
soon eradicate from Mount Vernon, and from 
earth, the last of his family ; for he had no 
descendants. He married a Mrs. Custis, a 



67 

widow, and bequeathed the most of his estate 
to his nephew Col. Bushrod Washington. 

But we are led to believe, that all the vir- 
tues which constituted a George Washington, 
died not with him. No, our country has now 
on the stage of political action, the veteran 
heart; the judicious mind; and ardent lover 
of freedom and independence. And in case 
of an invasion of a foreign foe, it would be 
found, that the sons inherited the blood of their 
fathers, and that Bunker Hill, and Groton, 
and New London's ashes were not forgotten. 

" Hail to the land whereon we tread, 

Our fondest boast ; 
The sepulchre of mighty dead, 
The truest hearts that ever bled. 
Who sleep on glory's bed, 

A fearless host. 

Let foreign navies hasten o'er, 
And on our heads their fury pour, 
And peal their cannon's loudest roar, 

And storm our land ; 
They still shall find our lives are given, 

To die for Home !" 



Advance, now, ye future generations ! We 
would hail you, as you rise in your long suc- 
cession, to fill the places which we now fill, and 
to taste the blessings of freedom and inde- 
pendence, which we now are passing through. 
We bid you welcome to this pleasant, but dear- 
bought land of your fathers. We bid you wel- 
come to the healthful skies, and verdant fields 
of N. England. Welcome to the benevolent 
and very hospitable hearts and homes, of the 
pleasant villages of New London and Groton. 
View, and read on the recently erected monu- 
ments, the names of those who bled for your 
safety ; and let the recollection of the scenes, 
sketched in the preceding pages, aid your 
sympathetic reflections. The soil is respread 
with the pleasant verdure of many peaceful 
years ; — the gore is absorbed in the earth, and 
the placid and beautiful Thames, which was 
disturbed with the rushing of a host of en- 
emies, and stained with the life-drops of the 
slain, now rolls onward in peace, to its home in 
the Ocean. So have passed away the pre- 
ceding generations, till 1841 finds but few 



69 

remaining, who can say, they saw the battle of 
'76, or of '81. 

Let us cherish sentiments of humanity and 
universal philanthropy, and detest war, for the 
sake of extending power, or of enlarging our 
territories, beyond the limits of justice and 
right ; — but prove our attachment to the cause 
of good government, and civil and religious 
liberty, by unwearied efforts in defence of 
our country, and a strict adherence to our in- 
valuable Constitution : remembering the motto 
of our esteemed Washington. " United we 
stand, — divided we fall." 

War and peace contrasted, must fix on the 
hearts of persons of sensibility, an abhorrence 
and heart-sickening dread of the former, and a 
love for the latter. Our hearts recoil at the re- 
cital of the foregoing slaughter, of but a few 
short hours ; what, then must have been the 
sanguinary view of the numerous battles, dur- 
ing eight years hostilities, including the dread- 
ful carnage at Lexington, — the struggle at 
Yorktown ; — and at Bunker Hill ! On 

that once fair rising ground, where the turf 

7 



70 

looks blackened by fire, yesterday stood a 
noble mansion ; the owner had said in his heart, 
'' Here will I spend the evening of my days, 
and enjoy the fruits of my labor: my name 
shall descend with my inheritance, and my 
children's children shall sport under the trees 
that I have planted !" But, alas! the devas- 
tation of an enemy has swept away, in a 
moment, the toil of years ; wasted, not enjoy- 
ed : — and if he escape with his life, the remain- 
ing years of his age are desolate ; but, far more 
severe the affliction caused by the shrieks of 
woe, the cries of anguish, resounding from the 
roadside, or some miserable shelter, of a dying 
wife, and helpless babes emploring protections! 
The soothing rites of burial are denied, and 
human limbs are trodden into the earth, by hu- 
man feet ! Such a scene set before our minds, 
is an unpleasant picture ; what, then, is the 
reality ? May Heaven preserve us from know- 
ing by experience ; and long may America be 
in reality, the * Land of the Free' — justice be 
dispensed to all ; law sit steady on her throne, 
and the sword be but her servant. 



FEMAL E WHIG OF '76. 



Composed by Rosanna Sizer, at the age of 16 years; at the 
time Danbury was burnt, at the commencement of the Rev- 
ohilionary War. 

King George the Great Tyrant, as we understand, 
Sends over his troops to conquer this land ; 
But our men are resolved to die in the cause, 
Before they submit to be under his laws. 

Our brave Liberty men, who stand for their right, 
Most honorably they do go forth to fight ; 
But they are afraid when they are all gone, 
There will be none left to raise them bread-corn. 

Though they go to war they need not for to fear, 
We'll do as much work as though they were here; 
For to carry on business, I'll now tell you how, 
We women must go out and follow the plough. 

We'll plough up the ground and the seed we will sow, 
And when it is time then the grass we will mow. 



72 

And since that the men are obKged to be gone. 
The girls must go out to hoeing the corn. 

We will pull all the flax as soon as 'twill do, 
For there is need enough of it there is such a crew, 
That they are almost naked for the want of clothes, 
And there is none to be bought as we snppose. 

And when at the time of our harvest comes on. 
Then into the fields to reaping we'll run ; 
We'll reap all the grain and will pick all the corn. 
And never give out till our work is all done. 

When we have got in the grain then we'll thrash out 

some wheat. 
And then make some bread for our soldiers to eat ; 
And since there is not much rum in the land, 
We will have some good cider all ready at hand. 

Then we'll go to spinning and spin up the flax, 
And make soldiers shirts for to put on their backs ; 
We'll spin all the wool as fast as we can. 
And make coats and blankets for every man. 

Now there is a number of tories that dwell all around, 
A parcel of villains in every town. 
They do not deserve to have human respect. 
Because that their country's good they reject. 



73 

These tories go creeping and skulking around, 
Contriving to ruin both country and town ; 
Their equals on earth they are not to be found, 
'Tis hoped they will soon have a birth under ground. 

For we'll work the harder and raise the more flax, 
To make halters enough for to stretch all theirnecks; 
We will spare no pains for to get them all hanged. 
For surely they are a great curse on the land. 

When they are all hanged then we hope to have peace. 
And in a short time that these wars they may cease, 
For we see that the force of Great Britain's not much, 
For this they have proved by hiring the Dutch. 

Now to our brave heroes that have the command. 
Hold out with good courage your foes to withstand ! 
We hope in a short time you will conquer them all, 
For the pride of Great Britain must soon have a fall. 



7* 



NAMES 

OF THE 

HEROES WHO FELL AT FORT GRISWOLD, 

September 6th, 1781. 



Col. William Ledyard, Groton. 

David Avery, Esq. do. 

Capt. John Williams, do. 

Capt. Simeon Allyn, do. 

Capt Samuel Allyn, do, 

Capt. Elisha Avery, do. 

Capt. Amos Stanton, do. 

Capt. Elijah Avery, do. 

Capt. Hubbard Burrows, do. 

Capt. Youngs Ledyard, do. 

Capt. Nathan More, do. 

Capt. Joseph Lewis, do. 

Lieut. Ebenezer Avery, do. 

Jiieut. Henry Williams, do. 



76 



/' 



Lieut. Patrick Ward, 


Groton 


Lieut. John Lester, 


do. 


Ensign Daniel Avery, 


do. 


Sergeant John Stedman, 


do. 


Sergeant Solomon Avery, 


do. 


Sergeant Jasper Avery, 


do. 


Sergeant Ezekiel Bailey, 


do. 


Sergeant Rufus Hurlburt, 


do. 


Sergeant Christopher Avery, 


do. 


Sergeant Eldridge Chester, 




Sergeant Nicholas Starr, 


do. 


Corporal Edward Mills, 


do. 


Corporal Luke Perkins, Jr. 


do. 


Corporal Andrew^ Billings, 


do. 


Corporal Simeon Morgan, 


do. 


Corporal Nathan Sholes, 


do. 


Daniel Chester, 


do. 


Thomas Avery, 


do. 


David Palmer, 


do. 


Sylvester Walworth, 


do. 


Philip Covel, 


do. 


Jedediah Chester, 


do. 


David Seabury, 


da. 


Henry Woodbridge, 


do. 



77 



Christopher Woodbrige, 


Groton 


Ehiathan Perkins, 


do. 


Luke Perkins, 


do. 


Elisha Perkins, 


do. 


John Brown, 


do. 


John P. Babcock, 


do. 


/- Nathaniel Adams, 


do. 


Waite Lester, 


do. 


Samuel Hill, 


do. 


Joseph Maxley, 


do. 


" Thomas Starr, Jr. 


do. 


Moses Jones, 


do. 


2- Belton Allyn, 


do. 


^ Benjamin Allyn, 


do. 


-"' Jonas Lester, 


do. 


Thomas Miner, 


do. 


Andrew Baker, 


do. 


Joseph Wiger, 


do. 


Samuel Billings, 


do. 


/> Eli Jones, 


do. 


Thomas Lamb, 


do. 


Frederick Chester, 


do. 


Daniel Davis, 


do. 


Daniel D. Lester, 


do. 



78 ' 

Capt. Adam Shapley, New London. 
Capt. Peter Richards, do. 
Benoni Kenson, do. 
James Comstock, do. 
Richard Chapman, do. 
John Holt, do. 
John Clarke, do. 
Jonathan Butler, do. 
John Whittelsey, do. 
Stephen Whittelsey, do. 
William Bolton, do. 
William Comstock, do. 
EHas Coit, do- 
Barney Kinney, do. 
Capt. Elias Henry Halsey, Long Island. 
Lieut. Enoch Stanton, Stonington. 
Sergeant Daniel Stanton, do. 
Thomas Williams, do. 
Lamb Latham, (Colored.) 
Jordan Freeman, do. 



NAMES OF THE WOUNDED, 

PATROLED AND LEFT AT HOME 

BY CAPT. BLOOMFIELD. 



Capt. William Latham, wounded in the 
thigh, Groton. 

Capt. Solomon Perkins, in the face, do. 
Capt. Edward Latham, in the body, do. 
Lieut. P. Avery, lost an eye, do. 

Lieut. Obadiah Perkins, in the breast, do^ 
Lieut. William Starr, in the breast, do. 
Ensign Charles Eldridge, in the knee, do. 
Ensign Joseph Woodmaney,lost an eye, do. 
Ensign Ebenezer Avery, in the head, do. 
John Morgan, shot through the knee, do. 
Sanford Williams, shot in the body, do. 
John Daboll, shot in the head, do. 

Samuel Edgecomb, Jr. in the hand, do. 
Jabish Pendleton, in the hand, do. 

Asahel Woodworth, in the neck, do. 



80 

Thomas Woodworth, in the leg, Groton. 
Ebenezer Perkins, in the face, do. 

Daniel Eldridge, in the neck and face, do. 
Christopher Latham, in the body, do. 

Christopher Eldridge, in the face, do. 

Amos Avery, in the hand, do. 

T. Woodworth, in the knee, do. 

Frederick Wave, in the body, do. 

Elisha Prior, in the arm. do. 

Sergeant Daniel Stanton, in the body, 

Stonington. 
Corporal Judd, shot in the knee, Hebron, 
William Seymour, lost his leg, Hartford. 



•V 



